Clinging On For Life
by SisiDraig
Summary: What if the line 'someone's copying me' had only been said because Vince didn't have the heart to tell Howard the truth about what the doctor had really said? How will Howard react when Vince tells him the truth? Howince, coz i can't resist
1. Chapter 1

**D/C: Vince and Howard and The Mighty Boosh belong to Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt, of which I am neither! =[  
Set after 'The Power Of The Crimp'**

* * *

"Something bad's happened to me Howard."

"Nothing bad happens to you, you're made of sunshine Vince."

"Bad things can happen to sunshine people, you know."

"No, bad things happen to me, not to you. That's how it works around here."

"I've got some bad news." Vince said solemnly. This was it, he was finally going to tell Howard about the heavy weight he'd been carrying on his shoulders since their arrival at the shop. "I don't even know where to begin." This was true. He didn't want to upset Howard, he knew this was serious and his poor brain cell was buckling under the pressure of trying to put what was wrong into words.

"Hey, this isn't like you. What's the matter? What's up?" Howard looked so concerned, his face was wrinkled up. Vince didn't want to hurt him more but he knew he had to tell him;

"I've felt like there was something wrong for a while but… I went to the doctors."

"Oh Christ." Howard had gone slightly pale. Vince's stomach twisted and churned sickeningly but he pressed on;

"He's confirmed the worst."

"Hey, I'm here for you." Vince felt Howard's hand on his shoulder in a gesture, which he both craved and hated because Howard only ever touched him if the situation was gravely serious.

"D'you mean that Howard?" Vince asked nervously. He still wasn't sure that Howard wouldn't be able to cope with this. Howard might like to think he's strong but he isn't, not really. He doesn't like things that are out of his control.

"Course I do. It's me and you all the way. What's the problem? What is it?" Vince looked up at his friend, his small brown eyes full of worry and hurt and Vince realised, he couldn't say it; _come on Vince, you have to tell him. _I can't it'll kill him. I'm the only friend he's got. If I'm gone, he'll have no one. _So, he deserves to know the truth. Tell him. _I…_ tell him. _I… _Tell him. _I…

"Someone's copying me." _What? _What? He'd bottled it.

And then there was tea in his hair and on his suit; so much for trying to do the right thing.

"You bitch! I thought you were dying." _I am. _"You said you'd seen a doctor."

"I have seen a doctor." _Okay, tell him now. _"a doctor of fashion." _Vince! _I'm sorry. Look at him. He'll be devastated.

--

Vince groaned quietly into his pillow. It had turned into such an elaborate lie, he'd wasted a fortune getting Leroy and John to dress up as Lance Dior and Harold Boom was ridiculous.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just tell Howard the truth." Naboo had asked, as Vince came in from the snow after a good Satsuma throwing contest. "And I'm not sure you should be wearing so little outside in your… condition."

Vince had just scowled at him and walked to his room sulkily. He couldn't help but hate Naboo a little. It had been the Shaman who had sat him down and told him about the complications with the jazz virus;

"It's escalated your illness Vince."

"By how much?"

"Umm, I think it's time you tell Howard." And he'd been trying to ever since but it was so much harder than he'd ever thought it would be.

He'd tried to tell him all the time but he never found the right moment. Every moment with Howard was too special to ruin with this kind of news but Vince began to wonder how many more of these 'moments' he had left, until the moment stealers came and took them all away… forever.

"Vince." Howard's voice drifted gently through the door. _Tell him now. _No.

"Come in." Vince pushed himself up into a seating position and said, "Hey" as Howard's head popped around the door.

"You okay?"  
_No _"I'm fine.".

"Right, um, okay. It's just you've been a bit quiet since we got back from the big crimp off."

"Mm."  
"See, like that."  
"Like what?"

"That. All this nonchalance, it's not like you."

"Non-sha-what?"

"It means that you're…" and then seemingly deciding it wasn't worth trying to explain, Howard said; "Look, you're still miserable."

_Yes. _"No."

"You are. Don't lie to me Vince.

"I'm not." _I am._

"How long have we known each other?"

"Ages."

"Right. So I _know _when you're lying to me. So, are you going to tell me what's wrong? Or am I going to have to crimp it out of you?"

"That sounds perverse."

Vince wasn't sure but he thought he saw Howard blush slightly as he cleared his throat before saying;

"Well, if you're sure you're okay." He turned to leave.

_Vince, this is your chance, you've got to tell him now._

And, just as Howard's Hawaiian clad back was disappearing from the room, Vince cried;

"I'm dying."

Silence.

"Howard?"

Nothing.

Oh God, he hates me. _I told you not to tell him. _Shut up brain cell. Shut up!

"Howard?"

Still nothing. Then there was the sound of a small, sobbed gasp and quick, heavy footsteps as Howard disappeared from the flat.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite desperately trying to stay up and wait for Howard to come home, Vince had fallen asleep uncharacteristically early. He'd been feeling exhausted at about nine o'clock more and more often recently and it was beginning to scare him. These were the little clues that told him he was ill but he still didn't _feel_ ill. Sometimes he'd lie awake thinking the doctors had made a mistake with their diagnosis. It happened sometimes, he'd seen it on TV; _When Doctors are WRONG_ or _Extreme Doctor mess-ups_.

It had given him false hope for a while.

"Look Naboo, look." he'd beamed after watching these shows for an entire day. "They've got it wrong, they _must _have." But Naboo's solemn expression had shown him that the doctors hadn't got it wrong and that he'd have to accept his fate soon enough.

--

Howard's heart felt heavy. This couldn't be true, not after everything they'd been through. It couldn't end like this. He didn't know how he'd thought it would end, maybe they'd die together on the same day after crimping there last moments away in a care home. Then he blushed; Vince was right, that did sound perverse.

"Excuse me sir."

Howard looked up. The lights were blinding him, or maybe it was the tears blurring his eyes.

"Umm, sorry to disturb you but I am supposed to be shutting now."

Howard looked around. The café was deserted. Howard wondered how long it had been like that. He hadn't really noticed anything whilst he'd been sat there. He just watched his coffee growing cold and the monotonous thud-thud of his heart as it pointlessly kept him alive.

"Sorry." he said and was surprised to hear his voice come out strangled and teary.

"Umm, sir. Are you okay?"

"No." Howard answered with brutal honesty.

Obviously not expecting that reply the girl gave a startled cough and said; "Well, umm… would you like me to ring someone to come and get you? A friend maybe."

"No." Howard got to his feat submissively. "I've only got one and he's dying."

"Oh." the girl said dumbly and who could blame her. Howard supposed that when she'd innocently asked a crying man if he was okay, she could never have expected such a tragic revelation.

Howard didn't say another word. He just left the shop and strolled into the perfect, warm evening. It was so wrong. Didn't mother nature know that Vince, his friend, his companion, his world was dying? She couldn't have, because Howard was sure that when she did know, it would never stop raining. The weather would be dark, wet and miserable; just like Howard's heart.

--

When Howard got back to the flat, he was dumbstruck to find Naboo and Bollo carrying on like everything was normal. They were just sat on the sofa smoking a hookah and reading a paper. When Howard came into their view Naboo said;

"Oh Howard. Get us a cup of tea."

Howard snapped.

"What?" he seethed.

"Tea, in a cup. Get me one." Naboo said offhandedly, eyes not coming off the page.

"You're joking!"

"I'm not great at comedy, but even I know that's not funny."

"Naboo, Vince is dying and you just carry on like everything's fine!" Howard yelled.

"Well, flapping around and shouting isn't going to help. Now shut up. You'll wake him up. Anyway, he's been dying for months and you've been carrying on as normal before."

"I didn't know before! And what d'you mean months?! How long exactly?!"

"Since we've been at the shop."

"What?" Howard screamed. "What?" he breathed, as the new information hit him. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Vince didn't want you to worry."

"Didn't want me to…" Howard trailed off dumbly, flopping into the arm chair and running his hands through his hair. "Didn't… Why didn't…? How did…?" Howard stuttered as he racked his brain feverishly for the right question; "What's wrong with him?"

Naboo opened his mouth to answer but they were distracted by a small, sleepy voice.

"Howard?"

They all turned to look at Vince, who was stood by the door rubbing one eye sleepily. "Howard. Are you okay?"

It seemed such a farcical question, given the situation and the man it had come from, that Howard laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed, until he was crying all over again.

"Howard." Vince said softly, putting his hand on the older man's shoulder. "Don't sit in here. I think we need to talk… away from these two." he added, dragging Howard to his feet weakly and pulling him to their shared bedroom.

Howard slumped down onto his own soft nutmeg sheets and looked at Vince. He seemed so pale and weak as he pulled his own sparkly covers around his thin shoulders. Howard just wanted to drag him into a hug and hold him until it was all over.

"I'm sorry I ran off Vince." he whispered.

"S'okay." Vince sighed, "Naboo explained you were in shock. I just locked myself in a room and cried for three days when I found out."

"When was tha-… oh my god. It was when Naboo said you'd just had a bad reaction to the rancid coconuts? I knew you weren't projectile vomiting like Naboo said you were."

Vince nodded but Howard was too busy looking at his knees to see.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before Howard." Vince said quietly.

Howard said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak again without sobbing endlessly.

"I just didn't want… I didn't want you to treat me differently just because I'm, you know, going away."

"Going away?" Howard choked bitterly. "You make it sound like it's some kind of holiday."

"Hmm." Vince sighed. Howard knew the other man was looking at him but he couldn't trust himself to make eye contact, not yet. "Howard."

"Yes, little man?" Vince could help feel, he sounded tired and distressed.

"I wanna write a will." To hear Vince say that out loud made Howard's heart clench painfully but he nodded silently.

"I'm wanna leave everything to you." The older man's chest swelled. "I mean… I know it's not much. Just a few clothes and capes and a few genius hats and stuff. I wish I'd done more with my life now." Vince laughed, though nothing was funny. "But if I don't write one then it goes to next of kin and… well, I don't have a next of kin. You know, no parents, no siblings, no family. Except, well, you. You're like family I guess. But that's not enough is it? Not legally?"

Howard looked at his friend. Vince was rundown, exhausted and was shivering in a way that suggested it had nothing to do with the temperature. Howard was suddenly overcome with the need to hold Vince. He got up slowly and sat softly on the sparkly bed next to his friend, before putting a very tentative arm around his shoulders.

"Will you come with me to write it tomorrow?" Vince asked quietly.

"Of course." Howard replied gently. "If that's what you want."

Howard felt Vince nod against him before burying his face deeper into his chest. He felt a wet patch growing slowly on his shirt as Vince cried silently. After a few moments of silently, unconsciously, rocking Vince, Howard pressed a kiss into his friend's soft hair. It was so soft, Vince wasn't sure if he'd imagined it. Either way, it sobered him up. He dried his eyes on his pyjama sleeve and looked at Howard seriously, before whispering;

"Howard, I don't want to die."

"It's okay." Howard lied, his voice cracking as the tears rolled down his own cheeks. "I'm here." he pulled Vince close. "It's okay. Me and you Vince, all the way… all the way." Howard kept whispering until Vince's breathing had evened out. He shifted slightly so he could lie Vince back in the bed. He tucked him in, like a child and kissed him softly on the forehead before leaving.

Just as he reached the door, he heard the younger man mumble;

"I love you Howard."


	3. Chapter 3

Howard had tried to watch TV. He'd attempted to take his mind off things with Jurgen Habbermaster's latest 7 hour documentary but as soon as the title ("_When Friends Die Young_") had come up on the screen, Howard had just wanted to forget everything. And it was that desire to reach oblivion that had led him to be slumped, semi-conscious, against a dirty alley wall, brain fuzzy with alcohol.

"Hey darling." A woman's voice said, high above him. Even though his eyes struggled to focus, he could make out the too much make up and the very short dress. Howard rubbed his eyes blearily and looked this woman up and down.

"You like what you see darling." she purred.

Howard shut his eyes tight and then looked again at the blurry, dark haired shape again before nodding his head dumbly. "You know you can get it all… for a small fee."

Howard dug his hands in his pockets and pulled out what was left of his money. As the few coins clattered to the floor, the woman laughed. "Not that small a fee Darl."

Howard made a weird grunting noise, he wasn't entirely sure what was happening. Why did this woman want his money? And why had she just pulled him to his feet? And why was she taking him to a building near by? And why had she just thrown him onto a bed?

He frowned, as she straddled him and squeaked as she tried to kiss him and virtually screamed when she started to undress him. He jumped, (or fell) from the bed and walked (or crawled) to the edge of the room, saying over and over again the only word that gave him comfort.

"Darling?" The woman said, sounding fed-up and annoyed. "You gay? Coz if you are, stop wasting my time."

Howard shook his head sharply.

"Then who the hell is Vince?"

"He's my friend." Howard said. His head spinning as the bright light was turned on, revealing the grubby, disgusting state of the room he was in. "Where are we?" he asked.

"My place." she sighed. "Look, there's a phone on the table, you can use it if you want. I've got to go out and get some more work, just be gone by the time I get back."

"What's your work?" Howard asked innocently. She just gave him an incredulous look and left him to muddle what the hell had just happened.

--

Somehow, he'd managed to work the phone and somehow, he'd managed to phone his house and somehow, he'd managed to catch Naboo in a decent mood, so the shaman had agreed to go and get him. But when he'd got back he was shocked to find Vince stood, hands on hip, demanding to be told where Howard had got too, leaving the jazz maverick to wonder when on earth he and Vince had reversed roles. And then he remembered with a sickening jolt, as mid-rant Vince collapsed onto the sofa, colourless and shaking.

Seeing his friend shivering in a crumpled mess of exhaustion and stress, almost sent Howard over the edge and suddenly his arm was on fire from where he was giving himself the rawest of Chinese burns. Then the world was fading into black and as he succumbed to the darkness, the last thing he remembered was Naboo saying;

"Oh, bloody hell. Howard's collapsed now. Bollo, go and dump that drunken sod on his bed will you and then come and help me with Vince."

--

Howard woke up with a blinding headache. He felt sick. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt… furry? He wondered if he'd managed to swallow some of Bollo's fur again and then he remembered, if somewhat hazily, last nights events and his mind turned to Vince. He heaved himself out of bed and, ignoring the rooms horrible habit of spinning in a circle, went to see how his friend was.

To his shock, Vince was sat in the kitchen chatting away happily to Bollo about Gary Numan, whilst the ape failed to persuade his friend to eat some cereal.

"Ah, Bollo, leave it. I'm not hungry. You know, Gary Numan didn't eat breakfast for 3 mornings in a row once. He's mental."

The ape just gave a indecipherable grunt and pushed a bowl of coco-pops towards him again. Vince was about to protest when Howard, gave a cough to alert them to his presence.

Suddenly, the glitter in Vince's eyes vanished, his eyes dropped to his bowl and he whispered; "Alright Howard."

Howard nodded mutedly. The silence dragged on, until it was beyond uncomfortable and Vince broke it with; "How's your head?"

"Hmph." was all the response Howard could manage.

"I'll get you a resolve." Vince offered, making to get up.

"No," Bollo said firmly, putting a hand on the electro-poof's shoulder and pressing him back into his seat, "precious Vince need rest. Howard idiot fool, can get own resolve."

"Yeah, well he wouldn't have got drunk if I hadn't driven him to it." muttered Vince and Howard was suddenly very much awake.

"It's not your fault." he said in an astonished tone.

"It is. I'm sorry Howard. I didn't mean to put all this on you. It's all my fault. Everything's my fault."

"Vince. Stop it! It's _not _your fault." Howard almost shouted, the concern bubbling in his voice. He couldn't believe Vince was saying this, it was ridiculous.

"It's okay Howard." Naboo sighed. "It's the second stage of grief; guilt. But Howard is right, Vince. It's not your fault."

"S'Howard's." Bollo grunted under his breath as he left the room, in search of some more banana's for his smoothie.

"It's nobody's fault." Naboo insisted.

"I feel sick. I'm not eating anymore of this." Vince groaned, pushing the bowl of cereal away from him.

"I know you don't feel like it but you've got to eat." Naboo said gently.

"What's the point?" Vince scowled. "I'm dying anyway." And with that, he pushed himself angrily to his feet and stormed off throwing himself sulkily to the sofa. Howard was about to follow him, when he felt a tiny shaman hand pull on his arm and a small shaman voice whisper in his ear;

"Be careful with him Howard and try not to take everything he says _too_ seriously. He's going to start lashing out soon. You've got to ignore it."

--

Howard sat on the sofa next to Vince.

"You okay?" he asked.

"That's a pretty thoughtless question Howard." he answered bitterly.

Howard bit his lip sharply and decided to try a different tact; "Look, I have to know. What's actually wrong with you?"

There was another silence that seemed to drag on forever. Howard didn't like these silences, it made him feel like they were strangers like they couldn't tell each other everything and maybe they couldn't. Maybe they'd both hidden things that they knew the other wouldn't like. Then Vince let out a long slow breath and said quietly; "They don't really know. That's the problem. Everything's just slowing down. They say it might be some form of meningitis or something but they were just guessing. Ironic really, I'm always the first to get something round here; clothes, boots, hats, fatal disease."

Howard winced and Vince laughed hollowly.

"What about Naboo?" the older man asked hopefully, "Does he know?"

Vince shook his head solemnly.

"Well, has he tried?"

The smaller man nodded. "He's done everything he could."

"And what about the hospital? Have they done everything they could? Because I swear, if you need some kind of operation, or emergency treatment, we'll pay for you to go private."

"How, we haven't got the money?"

"We'd find it." Howard promised. He knew he was clutching at straws but he figured that if straws were all he was being given to clutch at, then clutch he would, until every last straw had gone.

Vince said nothing. He almost believed Howard when he spoke like this. So strong; so determined.

"Howard." Vince spoke up quietly, after a few moments.

"Yes, little man?"

"I _am_ supposed to be in hospital."

"What do you mean 'I am supposed to be in hospital'?" Howard asked suddenly, sitting bolt upright and fixing Vince with an look of utter disbelief.

"Well, the doctors said that I should be in hospital."

"Why?"

"Because they say they could keep me alive longer."

"So, why the hell aren't you in there?!" Howard cried, half angry, half distressed.

"Look," Vince said, in a quiet, deliberate tone, which suggested he was choosing his words very, very carefully. "they could keep me alive but that's it. I'd just be existing. I wouldn't be _living._ I wouldn't be able to go to Topshop or out with Leroy or just stay in with you. I'd just be led in a hospital bed hooked up to a ton of machines, dying." Vince shivered as he said the word out loud. "They said I'd go bald from the treatment, that it'd make me sick twenty-four hours a day and that I'd probably be delusional and confused and that I'd forget people. I would've forgotten you."

"But if it'll keep you here longer." Howard pleaded.

"Please Howard, I don't want to forget you." Vince begged, a single tear leaking from his eye as he took Howard's hands in his own. "Just, let me die the man I am, not a potato in a hospital ward. Please."

Howard looked down and their joined hands and then back at his friend and nodded. "I'm sorry Vince. I just… I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"And I can't bear the thought of leaving you." Vince said, and then, feeling the moment was getting all too serious, he added; "Who knows what you'll start wearing when I'm not around to keep tabs on you?"

"Cheeky." Howard smiled, punching his friend lightly on the shoulder.

Vince smiled and rubbed his arm before saying, so quietly, it was barely a whisper; "Don't go out and get drunk again."

Howard clench in his gut. felt a horrible "Sorry." he said, in the same tone.

"Me too." Vince said.

"You've done nothing wrong."

Vince shrugged, "I'm still sorry." he said, snuggling himself into Howard's side and resting his head on his shoulder. Howard tried not to panic as the younger man yawned. He knew Vince had only been up a few hours and he already seemed tired. Howard quickly built up some courage that he'd been saving up for a special occasion. He knew he was rapidly running out of time and Vince curling up sleepily at his side only reiterated that fact. So, Howard took a deep breath and said;

"I love you Vince."

Vince just emitted a gentle peaceful noise and Howard knew his friend was asleep. He sighed. Who knew how long it would be until he saved up enough courage to tell him again?


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are we going?" Vince whined as Howard pulled him downstairs towards the front door.

"It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?" Vince asked suspiciously, "It's not some jazz evening with Lester Cornflakes..."

"Corncrake."

"...or something is it?"

"No, this it something you'll like."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Give me a clue."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease."

"No!"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease."

"Okay, okay." Howard succumbed to the high pitched, siren-like pleading. "Umm, Hamster."

"Hamster? _That_'s a clue?"

"Yep."

"Give me another clue."

"Hill."

Vince scowled at his friend as he got in the taxi. "I don't believe you. Hamster and hill?"

"Yes."

"Next clue?"

"Roll."

"Roll?"

Howard nodded.

"We're not going on some weird camping expedition where we hunt hamsters, are we? Is that it? We're going to kill hamsters and then slam them in a roll, munch them down."

Howard shot the younger man a scornful look and said; "Yes Vince, that's exactly it. We're going on a hamster hunt."

"So what are we doing then?"

"Zorbing."

"You've made that word up!"

"I haven't."

"What is it then?"

"It's a… game, I guess."

"A game? Like tag?"

"Better."

"So how do we play?"

"You get sort of strapped into a giant ball plastic ball and then you just… roll down a hill."

"Wow! Really, that sounds genius! Is like a great big hamster ball. It sounds…" Vince trailed off, his face dropping suddenly.

"Vince, you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just that…"

"What?"

"I don't know, I feel like…" Vince sighed, "You know."

"No, I don't, because you haven't finished a sentence yet."

"Sorry, it's just… you're going to hate this, aren't you?"

"No." Howard lied, as the thought of being thrown down a hill was making him turn slightly green.

"You are. Just like you hate the electro music you let me play and the bright colours you let me leave around the house."

"I don't hate it that much."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"Stop it Howard. You're letting me do whatever I want and it's just because I'm d-… going."

"I…" Howard couldn't deny it. That was exactly what he'd been doing. He'd been planning more and more elaborate trips and treats for his friend and 'zorbing' was just another activity in the endless list of activities Vince would like that Howard had found on the internet.

"I don't want you to miss out on anything just because you're d-... moving along early." Howard said eventually.

"Howard," Vince grinned, "I don't think we'd ever have gone 'zorbing' or hired out a giant bouncy castle in the shape of jelly or any of the other amazing stuff we've been doing, if we'd been alive for the next hundred years." Then he sighed and turned to face his friend. "Look Howard. I really appreciate what you've been doing for me, seriously. But… I don't regret anything that I've done or that I haven't done. Well… except…"

"Except what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"No, come on Vince. What is it?"

"Don't worry."

"Look, whatever it is, I'll make it happen."

"Really?" Vince asked, his eyes widening to abnormal proportions.

"Of course."

"Whatever it is?"

"Whatever it is."

"You absolutely mean that?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to change your mind?"

"No!" Howard cried, "Now for god sake Vince, what do you want?"

"This." Vince breathed and before Howard had an opportunity to even process what was happening, Vince had grabbed his face and was kissing him fiercely. Howard's brain was fuzzy and confused for a moment but as soon as he'd registered the situation he kissed back just as fiercely.

"Howard." Vince whispered between kisses.

"Hmm?" Howard said, making do with pressed kisses at the side of Vince's mouth as he spoke.

"I love you Howard."

"I love you too." Howard mumbled.

"I only regret I didn't tell you before."

"We didn't know before."

Vince suddenly shook his head ferociously, pushing his friend away. "I did." he sobbed, tears forcing their way down his cheeks. "I've always known. I knew the moment I met you." Vince cried, leaning forward and burying his face in Howard's chest. "And now I know you feel the same… we've wasted so much time."

"Shhh." Howard soothed, wrapping his arms around his friend and pulling him toward him. "It's okay."

And suddenly Vince was screaming with agony, doubled over in what was clearly excruciating pain.

"Vince." Howard whispered, pushing the fringe away from his face. "Vince, what's wrong?"

"Take me home." The smaller man grimaced, clutching at his stomach and biting his lip to stop himself from screaming.

Howard passed the information on to the taxi driver and went back to holding Vince, doing everything he could to ease his friends suffering.

--

By the time they got to the flat Vince was hardly able to stand and Howard found himself throwing notes at the driver and carrying his friend into the flat, calling for Naboo the entire time. Vince winced and grimaced and squirmed in torturous pain. And cried out, when Howard laid him gently on his bed.

"Howard." he rasped breathlessly.

"Yes little man?" Howard answered desperately, clutching at his friends cold sweaty, hand.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise."

"No, I have to. I've been so horrible to you since we got to the shop."

"It hasn't been that bad." Howard lied, blocking out the memory of his broken record and his evening with Eleanooooooooor.

"It has." Vince rasped insistently, "And I know it's stupid and it's not an excuse but… I just thought that if I made you hate me then you wouldn't hurt as much when I was gone."

"I'm always going to hurt when you're gone. I love you."

"You mean that?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."

Vince smiled weakly and then ran a hand through his dark locks; "I bet my hair looks awful."

Howard shook his head tearfully, squeezing his friends hand tightly.

"I bet I'm all pale and disgusting."

Howard shook his head again. Tears brimming up in his eyes and running down his cheek. "You look beautiful." he sobbed.

"Thanks Howard."

"For what?"

"Love." Vince whispered. And as the word left his lips his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed and his grip on Howard's hand went limp.

"Vince." Howard whispered, shaking his love gently on the shoulders. "Vince, sweetheart. Please. Please. Vince." And suddenly he was shouting; "NABOO! Quick. Quick - come on Vince." he begged, returning to his friend and repeating his name over and over again.

Naboo hurried to the bed and placed two fingers on Vince's pulse. Howard looked at him, his eyes pleading with the shaman not to tell him what he knew was true. The Shaman didn't say anything, he just shook his head solemnly and Howard broke down into fresh tears.

* * *

**Don't hate me! *cowers behind beanbag***

**One more chapter to go!!  
It's all planned in my head so now I'm off to write it.**

**Sisi...xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it's taken so long! Busy isn't the word - it's lazy. No, i'm totally joking. I've literally never had more homework thrust upon me in my entire life - so if you want to blame anyone for the delay - blame my teachers! =]**

**D/C: Everything belongs to The Mighty Boosh! There are two reasons why i love the Mighty Boosh; one's called Noel and the others called Julian!**

_

* * *

_Howard smiled at the pretty nurse and, as she blushed and giggled under his polite acknowledgement, a few things occurred to him. Firstly, he wondered if he could ever learn to love this woman and secondly, he wondered why he'd suddenly become attractive to the opposite sex now that the only person he'd ever truly love had died in his arms. After that, he just got angry. Life was so unfair. What had he done so wrong in his life that meant he deserved this kind of gut-wrenching torment?

Howard leant back in his chair and breathed out slowly as he tried to think about anything except Vince, illness or death but that proved incredibly difficult seeing as he was sat in a hospital waiting room. He didn't like it here, it was turning him into a bitter and malicious jerk. Especially when a woman near him had discovered her son had made it through a life threatening operation. She'd been shouting loudly about miracles saving all good people and Howard had found it very hard not to tell her just how wrong she was. He'd found himself hating her and her stupid son, his disillusioned mind telling him that if Vince didn't have a life then this boy didn't deserve one either. Suddenly, he wanted to be anywhere else in the world but here. This place was too painful.

He would never forget the heartbreaking events that had led him here. They were irrevocably stored his memories and they would keep coming back to him every time he closed his eyes, like an unavoidable nightmare. He'd stopped crying a while ago but he still felt sick as emptiness took him over. He just wanted to go back to the flat and trap himself under his duvet forever until everything stopped and he was sure it would soon. After all, surely after the centre of the world dies, it can't be long until the rest of the earth collapses too. But for now he just had to sit in the cold, white and grey hospital waiting for the doctor to confirm that his world had indeed ended and to confirm that he was about to start his new, bleak, Vince-less existence.

Just as Howard felt he was going to dissolve, once again, into a messy pulp of tears and despair, the pretty nurse, who he now realised he'd been staring blankly at for a good five minutes, waved flirtatiously at him. Never one to let down an admirer, Howard laboriously lifted a hand and waved back, with a_ very_ forced smile.

"Oi! I thought you were taken." cried an indignant voice from behind him, an indignant _cockney_ voice, an indignant cockney voice that Howard would recognise anywhere.

He froze. He was being haunted. That was the only reasonable explanation. Well, maybe not _reasonable_ but it was the only explanation his sleep deprived mind could cobble together in it's current depressive state. Then, the more rational side of his brain kicked in and he realised it was probably just a trick of the ear. He turned round, fully expecting to find himself looking into the eye of a cockney doctor but what he actually saw sent him dropping to his knees, gasping heavily.

"Howard." He reached down a hand and touched Howard's face gently. "Look at me."

Howard did so meeting the slightly dull blue eyes of Vince sat in a wheel chair. The younger man looked pale, almost grey, and totally exhausted but he was definitely here.

"B-but y-you're dead."

"Yeah, about that…" Vince blushed furiously. "I might have slightly misheard the doctors."

"Misheard?" Howard repeated numbly, taking Vince's hand and squeezing it just to make sure this wasn't some kind of miraculous mirage.

"Yeah." Vince was bright red now. "I didn't have meningitis."

"So, what did you have?"

"Appendicitis."

"But the doctors said you were dying." Howard whispered, still in a state of utter disbelief. He was desperately trying to piece together the facts, to make sense of this seemingly unexplainable miracle.

"No," Vince shook his head lightly, "that was Naboo."

"After he checked you?"

"No. Thing is Howard… he didn't _actually_ check me. I told him what I thought the doctors had said and he just said there was nothing he could do to help me."

"You told me he checked you." Howard said almost angrily.

"No, I said he'd done all he could and he did, sort of. I mean he's a stoner and a shaman, not a doctor. He doesn't know a thing about medicine."

"But he checked your pulse on the bed… he, he said you didn't have one. He said that you… that you'd…" Howard broke off, a mixture of anger and relief stopping him from completing the sentence.

"Stoner." Vince answered simply, giving Howard's hand a squeeze.

They just looked at each other for a moment, both trying to fathom the crazy rollercoaster-like events of the past few hours.

"I thought I'd lost you." Howard whispered eventually, burying his head into to Vince's lap.

"I'm sorry." Vince sobbed, hands stroking Howard's hair like a loyal cat. "I didn't mean to put you through all this. I thought I was dying too."

Howard just sat for a moment, clutching at his love as though he were terrified Vince would disappear at any moment and he would be left, once again, with nothing. Then, once he'd realised Vince was real and as everything that had gone on over the last few months dawned on him he snorted with laughter.

"Appendicitis?" he giggled.

Vince nodded.

"Appendicitis?" he repeated, laughing harder now.

"Shut up." Vince said, a grin creeping disobediently onto his would-be pouting face.

"Only you… only you could not hear what a doctor said and then just, what? Make it up?"

"I didn't make it up. It's not my fault all medical words sound the same, is it?"

"They don't sound anything like each other! What did you do when he was talking to you? Fall asleep?" Howard mocked.

"Well… he was really boring." he electro-poof protested. "He had this great big chart out and he was pointing at it and explaining everything with words I didn't understand. So I just… had a little sleepy." Vince blushed again as he caught Howard's expression of complete disbelief. "Turns out they only wanted me in hospital to remove my appendix before it exploded, that's what made me pass out. But there was never any hair or memory loss involved. I think Naboo just made all that up."

"So, have you had the operation?"

Vince nodded again, his eyes shining happily now. "Yeah, d'you wanna see the scar? It's huge. So cool!"

Howard's eyes widened even further in disbelief. He never thought he'd hear the words _scar_ and _cool _be spoken in the same utterance by the narcissistic Vince Noir. Anything that disfigured Vince often led him to some kind of mental breakdown but not now, now he was proudly showing off the scar, which ran along the right side of his stomach.

"Mr Noir!" came a shrill voice from behind the wheel-chair bound man, making them both jump and Vince swear under his breath.

"Yes, Nurse Catherine."

"You," she screeched accusatorily "are supposed to be in bed… resting."

"I'm in a chair, that's kind of like rest." he moaned. "And I had to come and see Howard. He thought I was dead."

"And who's fault is that?"

"Oh, stop blaming me! That doctor was boring!"

The nurse shook her head, wearing an expression which Howard recognised as exasperated fondness and said; "Bed. Now."

"Can Howard come?"

"Are you going to rest if he's there?"

"… yes."

"That's a no."

"I said 'yes'."

"Mm, but you took too long to answer. Move it." she nodded her head towards his ward.

"No need to treat me like I'm a child." Vince pouted, crossing his arms huffily.

"Then stop acting like a child."

"I'm not!" he whined, rolling off towards the ward.

The nurse rolled her eyes and smiled at Howard. "I have no idea how you put up with him."

Howard just shrugged "I love him."

"Yeah, he's mentioned that... a lot. Look, you can see him at any of the visiting hours. Just ask for a timetable at the front desk."

"Thanks."

"And I think he'll be out in about a week. He seems to be recovering unbelievably quickly."

--

"Howaaaaaaaaaaaard.

Howaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard.

Howaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard.

HOWARD!"

"What!?"

"Can you get me the TV remote please?"

"You're in the sitting room."

"I know. But it's the other side of the room."

"Is it a remote, remote? Ha! D'you get it?"

"No."

"Vince, just get the remote yourself." Howard frowned, annoyed that his rare moment of comic genius had been wasted on such an idiot.

"But I've had an operation."

"That…" Howard scowled, storming angrily out of his bedroom and into the room, where Vince was sat lazily on the sofa, mere meters from the offending remote. "…was over a month ago. You're fine now." Howard said picking up the remote, hurling it semi-violently at his friend and smiling at the satisfying squeak emitted from the electro-poof as it collided with his leg.

"Thank you."

"Hmph."

"Howard?"

"What!?" he snapped irritably.

"What're you doing?"

"Reading."

"Awww, that's boring. Come and sit with me."

"And _why _would I want to do that?"

"Coz you love me?" Vince smiled, smugly patting a tiny slip of sofa next to him, which Howard knew there was no was on earth he would fit on. But Vince seemed to have flicked on that infamous magnetic charm and Howard was already walking towards him before his brain had even registered what he was doing.

"Move over then." he grumbled, tapping Vince's knees until the electro-poof had shifted enough for them both to lie comfortably on the sofa.

They led there peacefully for a long time. Howard holding Vince close, not ever wanting to let him go again. It was only when Vince shuddered slightly that Howard realised his fingers were tracing Vince's newest scar.

"Sorry." Howard whispered.

"S'ok." Vince mumbled back. "It just feels a bit weird. It's like a reminder to live everyday like it's your last. You know, without all the crying and the sadness."

"Mmm." Howard agreed, stifling a laugh by pulling his love close and kissing him chastely on the temple.

"Howard?"

"Yes?" Howard mumbled into Vince's long black hair.

"Can we go Zorbing tomorrow?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Pleeeeeeeeeease!"

"Look, I don't know…"

"Oh come on Howard. You were going to take me before."

"Yeah but that because I thought you were, you know… d-"

"So, what?" Vince butted in, pushing himself away from Howard, "you're only nice to me when you think I'm going to die."

"Don't be ridiculous. I just… I don't really fancy zorbing. It looks awful."

"It doesn't! It looks genius! And you've stopped letting me play Gary Numan in the house. I'm beginning to think you only said you loved me because you thought I was dying."

"Don't you dare say that!" Howard said angrily. "Don't you even suggest that! I've loved you ever since I first so you hanging around at Bollo's cage and showing him pictures of Jimi Hendrix, when you were supposed to be in school."

Vince just beamed back happily. "And you gave Bollo a note to give me." he laughed. "D'you remember that?"

"Shut up."

"You wrote; 'would you like to come to my hut for a quiche'."

"Shut up."

"And your writing was so scrawly I thought it said…"

"Shut up."

"…quicky."

"Shut up." Howard blushed furiously as the embarrassing memory flooded back to him.

"I would have, you know."

"What?"

"Well, when you explained what it actually said… I was a bit disappointed."

"How dare you? My quiches are the best in Yorkshire."

"Yeah… but your quicky's are the best in Britain."

"You cheeky minx."

"Come on Howard." Vince grinned, jumping to his feet and pulling the other man with him. "I wanna go zorbing."

"I thought we were going to…" Howard reddened "you know, have a quiche."

"Yes." Vince giggled, "we are. But after that… zorbing." He threw the phone at Howard and danced away into the bedroom.

Howard smiled and started to punch the number in. He'd always thought that he'd quite like a peaceful life without the hectic feel that Vince brought to everything he touched. But it wasn't until recent events that he realised just how much he'd not only miss it but crave it if it was ever snatched away from him.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!!  
Love to you all!  
Sisi...xx**


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